The Forsworn
by Lord Balgruuf
Summary: The last time Lena had been in the Reach, she was a young girl fleeing the city. Now, after years as a refugee, she returns to Skyrim to rejoin and reconnect with her people, now known as The Forsworn. She'll face difficulties such as prison, conspiracies, civil war, exile, and of course, dragons. Her goal? Reunite her people under one leader, and take back their land.
1. The Mission

The Forsworn

Chapter 1: The Mission

Lena awoke suddenly, covered in sweat and panting. She had had more nightmares, the same ones that plagued her sleep ever since she came to Falkreath. They were dreams of a dragon, the same one that she saw in her brief time in Helgen. The same one that burnt that village to the ground. The same one that had evidently saved her life. _Black as night_ , she remembered.

In her dream, she couldn't see anything. She could feel the presence of the dragon, however, in a small village. Chaos ensued around her as she heard the sounds of women and children screaming and running by. She heard sounds of few men attempting to fight the monster. Over time, the sounds of fighting would vanish and be replaced by more panic. If the dream lasted long enough, Lena could feel the heat from the fires begin to surround her blinded form. She could hear and feel buildings collapsing. And then all the screaming would stop. Lena's first visit to Skyrim since she fled as a little girl was already causing her problems.

She sat up in her bed at the local inn. Next to her on the dresser was a tin of water, which she splashed lightly on her face, and then drank the rest. Under the bed was a heavy fur coat, which she swung around her underclothes. Slipping on a pair of fur boots, Lena headed out of her room. The innkeeper of Dead Man's Drink was the only other person in the room. Sitting by the hearth, she briefly acknowledged Lena as she passed by, offering her a drink and some food, and then turning back to the warm fire after Lena refused.

She only wanted to briefly step outside to cool off. Lena loved the cold of Skyrim. She spent most of her childhood in the city of Bruma in Northern Cyrodiil. The same cold weather that could be found in Skyrim was also found in Bruma, as well as more Nords than Imperials. Falkreath had a very crisp feeling in the air, making it the perfect temperature for Lena to feel comfortable in. She hoped that she never had to travel to the far north of the country. Stories from her childhood told of cities that were completely covered in snow, with all the inhabitants gleefully frozen during the colder seasons. She didn't intend to find out if the folktales were true.

Sitting on the porch of the Dead Man's Drink, Lena took in the smells and sounds of the town. Magnus had just started to rise in the sky, and already the local townsfolk were starting their busy days. A mill worker stepped out of his house and made his way to the creek on the far side of town. A legion of soldiers passed by and made their way through the center of town. The guard had been nearly doubled since verified reports of dragons reached the ears of the jarl. Zaria, a Redguard who owns the local alchemy shop, waved to Lena as she passed by, presumably on her way into the woods to collect ingredients. The two of them had become rather close in the few weeks that Lena had been in town. Zaria was the first one Lena told about the dragon attacks, and the two women developed a trust early on. Both were incredibly talented alchemist and would often share recipes with each other.

After a short while, Narri, a young servant girl who worked at the Dead Man's Drink, sat down on a bench on the large porch. The ladies had never talked much, other than Narri exchanging drink or food for coin. Despite the infrequency of conversation, however, both women seemed intrigued in the personalities of the other. Narri was very outgoing, especially around men. Or even women for that matter. There were many times where Lena felt as though she was the victim of a flirtatious move by Narri. Lena on the other hand was very quiet, but always had a knack for making other people feel uncomfortable or scared just by being in their presence. That, plus she had a very special skill that involved killing people at long distances with a bow. That talent was obviously kept a secret from the people of Falkreath.

"What a lovely morning, isn't it?" Narri asked as she sat down. Even sitting, Narri's head nearly reached Lena's shoulders, and no one could figure if Narri was just obnoxiously tall, or Lena was unusually short.

"It's not so bad, maybe I'll spend some time by the creek this afternoon."

"Oh, than I'm sure you won't mind if I join you? I could use a bath and bathing alone is no fun," and even without looking at her Lena could feel the smirk on Narri's face.

"Well," Lena started, trying to find an excuse the woman's offering, as well as to hide the redness she knew was on her face. "I might just find something that's actually productive to do. Maybe try a little fishing or go looking for ingredients."

"Suit yourself, just thought you'd want to do some gossiping is all. I heard there is a caravan that should be passing through here on it's way to Markarth within a few days."

"Wait, really?" _Damn her_ , Lena said to herself. Narri knew that would catch the Breton's attention. "Tell me Narri, when?"

"By the creek, in 'bout an hour," Narri said. Than she got up from the bench, patted Lena on her shoulder, and headed inside the inn. Even after she had left Lena could sense the smirk she likely has on her face, as well as the blush on her own.

By now she was fully awake. Magnus lightened up the whole town and all of the townsfolk had begun their daily toils. Lena headed back into her room in the inn, making sure she ignored Narri's inevitable smile. Once inside her room with the door closed, she kicked off her boots and laid down on the bed. She began to run her fingers through her silver hair, mimicking a brush. The Breton had never much been into grooming, relying on her skills as a fighter and trying to keep to the wild tradition of her people. She did take some pride in her hair, however. The color was supposedly a sign of a good life for the Reachmen. From what she remembers in her youth and the stories her grandmother told her, most of her people preferred to be bald. Lena never thought that would be a good look, and allowed her Breton/Nordic heritage, as well as her Imperial upbringing, to show off her looks.

After "brushing" her hair for some time, she tied it in a simple braid and pulled out a book from under her bed. It was a copy of "The Legend of Red Eagle", a book detailing the deeds of the historical figure known as Red Eagle. Zaria lent the book to Lena one day after she showed immediate interest in it. Growing up in Markarth, Lena had constantly been told tales of the legend. Many referred to him as a myth only, but to the Natives, he was very real indeed. Her grandmother shared what little she knew about Red Eagle with Lena during their time in Bruma. All Lena knew about him before reading was that he was a brave leader of her people who sold his soul to fight off invaders.

About half a book and a bowl of stew later, a knock came on Lena's door. She expected it to be Narri, who was likely in a creek waiting for her to show up. Instead it was the innkeeper, Valga. Valga was very understanding to Lena's situation. After sharing her story about Helgen and the dragon, Valga realized that Lena had no money and essentially no place to go at the moment. She gave her work quickly, simple errands to run around town or in the woods, and in return would give her food and a cheap room. Lena eventually earned the trust and gratitude of the town when she aided a few guards in rescuing some hunters that had gotten trapped in a cave. Since then Lena hadn't had to pay for anything at the inn.

Valga had her usual, tired expression as she came into the room. "How ya doin' dear? Comfortable?"

"I can't complain," Lena grinned and put her book aside. "How about yourself?"

"I can complain," she said, causing both woman to laugh. "Dengeir won't stop complaining 'bout our mead. He keeps sayin' the honey is no good. I been tellin' him to drink some milk."

"He's a milk drinker alright. Say, is Narri in there?" Lena asked motioning to the main room of the inn.

"Nah, she said she was going to the creek to bathe. I asked her why she wanted to bathe so close to town in the middle of the day, but I know how you girls like to be." Valga walked over to Lena and grabbed the soup bowl off of the table.

"Yeah I think she's waiting there for me. That girls a strange one." Valga chuckled and agreed, and then made her way to the door before Lena asked, "Any news of a caravan?"

"Ahh that's what I was gonna tell ya. One of the Khajiit caravans just set up outside of town. They usually don't stay for long so you should get to it."

That woman, as sweet as she had been the past few weeks, often drove Lena crazy with her ignorance. Still, she thanked Valga, threw on her fur coat, trousers, and boots and made her way to the edge of town.


	2. The Journey

**The Forsworn**

 **Chapter 2: The Journey**

The Khajiit caravan left the next morning, with Lena traveling along. The Jarl of Falkreath, a weasel by the name of Siddgeir, refused to allow the feline creatures to even set up shop in the forests of his hold, and so the group had to leave early. Lena was surprised at how the local Nords could be so rude to outside creatures, when they were the ones trespassing on what was once considered the Reach.

No one else travelled with the group; it was only the four Khajiit, led by an older feline by the name of Ri'saad. The caravan stored most of its products in a wagon that was pulled by one of the bodyguards. The remaining Khajiit would carry the rest of their supplies.

Lena herself had brought with her the few remaining possessions she had. All of her items were confiscated by the Imperials as she crossed the border, and they were likely burned in Helgen. On her back she had a small sack that Valga had given her. The sack itself was very rugged and had many holes in it, but Lena didn't mind. In it she had her coin purse (nearly empty), a canteen of water, a dagger, a few potions and ingredients, as well as some books she "found" in Falkreath. Zaria let Lena keep "The Legend of Red Eagle" as a gift, for she hadn't finished it yet. Outside of her sack, Lena held onto the longbow she found on her escape from Helgen, and had a quiver of iron arrows swung around her shoulder. She was able to convince the Khajiit that she would be great protection against any dragon or bandit attacks they may face _._

They followed the road northwest towards Markarth, making sure to check the road markers to ensure that they were on the right path. Ri'saad told her that they had made the trip to Markarth dozens of times and had never gotten lost.

The river that they walked along for most of the trip had some long and odd name that neither the Khajiit nor the Breton cared to learn. It was an easy landmark to follow, however. Its path would lead them to just outside the city gates, and the constant roar of its rapids ensured the group never strayed too far from it's banks.

They walked for several hours, only stopping twice to rest and gather more water. The sun was in the lower part of the sky when they finally crossed into the Reach.

Lena didn't need anyone to confirm to her where she was. She was home, and it was just how she remembered it after nearly twenty five years.

The air was cold, but not a frigid cold like Helgen. It was the coolness and freshness that is in the air after a light, but long lasting rain passes. No snow, much to Lena's relief. Juniper trees naturally lined the stone road heading west, and the smell of their berries instantly brought back memories to the Breton. The fog was all over, and was the finishing touch of beauty that the Hold needed. A thick cloud seemed to settle on a small, central mountain, clouding it in secrecy. She couldn't but smile as she took the sight in. _Yep, I am home._

She stood there for what seemed like only a second, lost in her trance. The Khajiit were not as impressed with the region, and didn't wait for Lena. "Hurry up, girl," Ri'saad shouted from up the road. She snapped out of it, and returned to the group.

"Im sorry. It's just...it's so beautiful," she said with a wide smile still on her face.

"You people don't know beauty. This land has no beauty," Atahbah, one of the other Khajiit merchants said in her scratchy voice. In total the caravan was made up of four Khajiit, although Ri'saad was the only one who had talked to Lena until now.

"Do you all miss your home?" Lena asked as they continued on the path to Markarth.

None of the feline's answered for some time, perhaps hoping to avoid the topic of their homeland. Lena had hoped she didn't offend any of them. After all, they were her only protection in this land. After some time, Ri'saad, who was at the front of the caravan, spoke up. "We should try to find a place to rest for the night. Lena, we can get to Markarth in the morning, but this one wishes not to travel these hills at night."

Lena was in no place to argue, after all, she was exhausted as well, and didn't want a dragon to attack in the darkness.

They found a small clearing just a short way off of the road. One of the Khajiit, dressed in steel armor, disappeared into the night to scout the area. "Don't worry about that one. She will return," Ri'saad said as he approached. "Come, start a fire. Cold nights in Skyrim make us long for home."

Lena crouched over the pile of branches that they had gathered. "I hope I didn't offend with my question earlier. It's just i'm curious about your homeland."

"Us Khajiit hail from a distant land called Elsweyr, bordered on the north by Cyrodiil and the south by the glistening blue waters of the sea. Elsweyr is an arid land of deserts and rocky canyons, where the sun shines warmly, always. There are cities so ancient, the sands have swallowed them whole. But now I will say no more, for I miss my home greatly."

"It sounds…lovely." Lena grimaced at the thought of what living in Elsweyr would be like.

She got the fire going, and before long the rest of the caravan had joined her near the warmth. The Khajiit that had disappeared into the woods earlier returned, carrying three rabbits. "This one uses her claws to hunt," she told Lena, amused at the shocked expression on the human's face. Lena shared some of the sweet berries she had been collecting, and the caravan had their meal in silence.

The Khajiit didn't seem to want to sleep. They sat up for hours, whispering to each other and reacting to every little sounds heard nearby. Lena had heard rumors that the Khajiit people could see in the dark. She didn't dare interrupt their silence to ask.

Lena spent some time taking in the smells around her, not ready to fall asleep yet. She checked her arrows and ensured they were all sharpened. Then, she laid back with her canteen of water and pulled out "The Legend of Red Eagle", picking up where she left off.

Atahbah pulled out a small bottle and began to sip from it. She passes it along and all of the Khajiit took turns with it. Eventually it got to Lena, and she asked aloud what was in it.

"The finest skooma. Straight from Elsweyr," Atahbah said. Lena wasn't surprised. She had seen the skooma and moon sugar industry take effect on the few Khajiit in Bruma. She had always avoided it, however.

"Oh, that's very kind. But I'll pass." She gave the bottle to Atahbah.

"One sip won't hurt you, girl."

"Leave her be, Atahbah," Ri'saad joined in. "More for you, eh?"

Atahbah's dark eyes lit up as she continued to sip the bottle. The Khajiit went through two more bottles. By the last bottle, Lena was amazed at the effect it had on them. All of them were completely out of it, unable to hold a conversation. They threw things into the fire, sang ancient songs aloud, and seemed completely lost in their own minds. _So much for caution,_ Lena thought to herself. If a dragon attacked, her only chance to survive would be to run into the hills and hide _._

She left the camp to relieve herself by a nearby tree. The thick fog took away any possibility of light from the moon, so she had to find her way by inching forward. Eventually she found some privacy, and squatted. Afterwards, she stood there and took in the fresh air. She could still hear the roar of the river, despite it being quite some distance away.

She stood there for some time, and memories of her childhood and her parents began to wander into her mind. She wished they could be there with her. She longed to see them. Above all, however, she wished she got to say goodbye. Her last memory of them was her father grabbing his axe and his wives' bow. Her mother came out of the bedroom in a hurry, dressed in her traditional garbs. Lena remembered being scared. The sounds of the Nords shouting into the air was enough to frighten anyone, let alone a young girl. Her father was talking to his mother, who was gathering all the food they had into a sack. Suddenly, her parents each gave her a hug and a kiss, and ran outside to join the defense. The intensity was too much for her to comprehend at the time, but her grandmother explained it very clearly to her years later as a part of a coping process. _I won't let myself be controlled by their ghost any longer._

Her memories continued to occupy her mind. Suddenly, a tree branch fell just a short distance away from her. She jumped back and hesitantly examined the tree, but to no avail. It was pitch black, and there was no way she could see into the brush of the tall tree. She kept quiet for what seemed like an eternity, not moving a muscle. Over the sound of the river and the singing of the Khajiit, she stood there, desperate to hear something. She could swear she heard breathing coming from the tree.

And then that's when she heard it. The distinct sound of arrows in a quiver brushing each other. Every archer knows that soft sound of wood hitting wood. She immediately crouched down and rolled away from the tree. As quietly as she could Lena sprinted to the campsite.

She ran into the Khajiit wearing the armor. "Get your sword now! Someone is watching us!" They made eye contact, and Lena knew that it was no use. The Khajiit was obviously experiencing some hardcore hallucinations. "Curse the Divines! Quick, where is Ri'saad?"

The Khajiit could barely walk. "Ohhh," she moaned. "This Khajiit needs her rest."

 _These damned cats are going to be the death of me_. "Snap the hell out of it!" Lena said, desperately shaking the guard.

As she was about to move on and find the other Khajiit, an arrow whizzed past Lena's ear and struck the Khajiit in her neck. Her eyes had a look of calm, as blood spurted out of her neck. She fell from Lena's grip. She dropped down and crawled to her bedroll where she kept her bow.

As she readied an arrow to fire at an unknown enemy, she shouted, hoping to gather the rest of the Khajiit and ready a defense. When no one answered, she looked across the fire, much to her horror.

Atahbah was kneeling, with three arrows protruding from her chest. She saw an axe nearly splitting Ri'saad's head in two, with a Reachman standing over him, screaming into the air. She could see the shadow of the last Khajiit in the distance, looking as though he lost his head.

Reachmen seemed to pour out of the hills and into the camp. At least a dozen of them. Lena knew that she probably wouldn't escape. _But maybe I can join them? After all that was my goal when I came to Skyrim._

She decided to put down her bow and surrender. She got off the ground and threw her hands in the air, making her position known to the Reachmen. As soon as she was up, she was knocked down, this time with an arrow stuck above her right breast. "I yield!" she shouted.

Instantly, another arrow struck her in her upper thigh. Shock quickly took over as she laid on her back in pain. Her body trembled rapidly as she tried to conjure a healing spell. Arrows were still flying by her, hitting the ground near where she lay. She was hurt, scared, and bleeding badly, unable to concentrate enough to heal herself.

She felt her life force leaving her. _I'll see mother and father soon enough._ She silently began to pray to the Eight.

The attacking Reachmen began to gather around her, laughing and taunting as one of them rubbed his axe on her face. Her vision was getting blurry, but she could see him lift his weapon. As he raised it above his head, she closed her eyes and braced. It seemed like an era had passed by as she waited to die.

"Wait you fool!" she heard. She was too exhausted to open her eyes and see the men talking. "This one got herself nice, silver hair. This one goes to the witches." The men around her grew quiet, and the next thing she knew, she was floating.


	3. Captive Again

**The Forsworn**

 **Ch 3: Captive Again**

 **Hey y'all sorry this chapter took so long to publish, but I have been super busy this week with school and work. If you like this chapter, please favorite and follow, as there will be many chapters to come. And above all, LEAVE A REVIEW! Let me know what y'all think/what I can improve.**

After passing out with two arrows protruding from her body, Lena entered Vaermina's dream realm. She dreamt of many things, from hunting in the woods in Cyrodiil, to sensual dreams of boys she liked in Bruma. After some time of pleasant dreams, she would wake up suddenly in pain enforced by her new captors. One time she swore the men dragging her body into the hills dropped her, and one of the arrows made its way deeper into her body. She would scream until she passed out in pain moments later, and then dream again.

Of course, she couldn't dream without having the same dream she had been receiving for the past weeks. The same dream about the dragon attack. _At least Vaermina is giving me different dreams this time,_ she thought to herself in between dreams.

She awoke in a cold sweat with the sun shining in her eyes through some bars in what appeared to be a cell. She lifted her head to look around and was immediately met with a jolt of pain in her chest. The arrow that had struck her was gone, but obviously her "healers" didn't bother with restoration magic. She could still feel the small hole in her chest where the arrow was, and it hurt like terribly. She lowered her hand down her body, and felt where the other arrow still lay in her thigh. Lena didn't need to look to know that it had gone completely through, with the point scratching against her left thigh.

Lena grunted, and used any stamina she had left to look around the cell she was in, but to no avail. She tried yelling out, but her throat was far too dry and scratchy. Unable to move and barely able to talk, she grunted and sighed, and let her head rest on the ground and took in the smells and sounds around her. The cell she was in was more of a shack, with stone walls making up the majority of the foundation and a thatched roof on top. The rest of the room was empty from what Lena could tell.

People were yelling in the distance, but all Lena could make out was that they had very strange accents. _Definitely Reachmen_. The sound of a herd of goats passed by, and the consistent high pitch of a hammer striking steel echoed off the cell. Above all, however, Lena could hear the roar of a waterfall in the distance.

Lena tried to relax, but couldn't stop thinking about what the Reachman said before she passed out. ' _We'll give her to the witches.'_ _What was going on?_

Some time passed before she heard some sounds outside her cell. At least three people had gathered and were now whispering to each other. Eventually they stepped into Lena's view of the metal door. One of the men unlocked it and held it open for the others. One man, armed with an axe, led the two women inside the tiny room. One of the women was much older, and carried a small pouch with her. The other was more of a girl, no older than sixteen years of age. She eyed Lena very cautiously, and kept a hand to the satchel that was attached to her waist.

The older women stepped forward, standing over Lena's limp body. "I am Iahea, and this is Mira. We have been sent here to save your life, so that the witches may take it."

Lena was shocked at how forward this woman was. Sure, she expected to die, but didn't expect her new captors to seemingly rub it in her face. "Well, thank you for saving my life at least," she responded sarcastically.

"You must not be a very good warrior, if you got shot twice," the old woman chuckled as she got to work. Lena ignored the woman's comment. "Mira, inspect her chest."

"Yes ma'am!" The young girl quickly dropped next to Lena and pulled out several ingredients from her satchel. She would often watch Lena from the corner of her eye as she worked, maintaining her state of caution. "The arrow didn't go far in, ma'am. I can use a spell to heal…"

Iahea cut her off, "No! She does not need our magic. She will die anyways."

"Iahea," the man in the room finally spoke up, "your job is to save her life. So save it!" Lena was taken by surprise at the tension in the room, not understand why it was such a big deal.

"Just let me die here," Lena mumbled.

"And you think we are going to listen to you, prisoner? Do not speak here!"

Lena was about to tell him off when the guard outside called his comrade to let the healers do their work. He left the three women alone in the cell. Mira pressed her hand to the hole in Lena's chest and closed her eyes. A golden glow came across the girl's arm, and made its way to Lena's chest. A clean, numbing feeling spread through her body, and she instantly felt stronger.

"Wow," she said in awe. "You are a very good healer, Mira." The girl smiled at the compliment.

"Mira, come here and help me take this arrow out." The healing spell Mira casted relieved some of the pain and discomfort Lena felt in her right leg, but the pain was still there everytime she moved her leg. She did her best to not let it lock up, in order to avoid future pains.

Mira knelt with the older woman and prepared to pull the arrow out as Iahea held the leg still. Before Lena could give them a better idea as to how to get the arrow out, Mira yanked on the stick as hard as she could. Pain shot up from Lena's thigh and went all across her body. She yelled and cried and cursed the Divines. Tears rolled down her face as she felt the arrow slowly make its way out of her body. She was waiting to pass out from the pain, put the relief never came.

It felt like an eternity of pain before Mira stopped pulling, but Lena could still feel the arrow. "Sorry ma'am, I could not get the arrow out," Mira said to Iahea, "it's gone too far through. Perhaps one of the men could assist…"

"NO!" Lena cried, wiping tears off her face and panting heavily. She finally calmed her breathing enough so that she could talk. "Break the fuckin' arrow in half! Please, break it, then pull it out!"

Mira instantly looked regretful, realizing her mistake and the suffering it caused. Iahea seemed upset at the idea of being merciful to her prisoner, but she didn't voice any complaints as she grabbed Lena's now bloody thigh with one hand, and snapped the arrow in half with the other. Mira cast a spell on Lena, what felt like a calming spell, and proceeded to pull the other half out of her leg. She held her hand on Lena's wound, and cast a healing spell for several seconds.

"Here girl, drink this," Iahea said, while handing Lena a vial. She downed the potion, ignoring the vial taste. "You will sleep easily now. Come Mira, leave our prisoner to heal." And with that, the two women gathered their things and left the cell.

Lena tried to fight the exhaustion for as long as she could. She could move her leg slightly, and decided to try and put pressure on it. Rolling over, she pushed herself up and used her good leg to stay balanced. Putting the right leg on the ground caused it to immediately give out, and she hit the ground hard and cursed. She had never had such a major injury, and had no idea how long it would take to get better.

Using her one good leg and every bit of strength she had from her exhausted upper body, she pulled herself up to the door of the cell, and looked out at her new home.

She couldn't see much. It looked as though the Reachmen had built a settlement near some old Nordic ruins. Large stone stairs seemed to show different levels of the settlement. Old, birdlike statues decorated different areas, from what Lena could see. Dozens of people passed by, most of them heading up the stairs to some unseen level. Most of them stared at her, pointing and laughing at her misfortune. _Not much I can do about that in my current situation._ The sun seemed to be in the lower half of the sky, with the temperature beginning to drop.

The effort of standing left her exhausted, and Lena laid herself back down onto the ground. Sleep was making its way across her body. As she prepared to enter Vaermina's realm again, she prayed to the Divines for a way to avoid her doomed fate once again.

She dreamt of a black dragon again, but this time she was awoken to an entirely different sound. Cheering and singing filled the Reachmen camp that she was captive in. Lena could see through the barred door of her cell what looked like a festival. Light from both the moon, as well as a large fire, illuminated the night. Lena shifted around on the ground she lay on. A sudden discomfort was felt in her wrist and ankles. Her hands and feet were tied together by rope, and from what she could determine from the pain, they had been bound this way for several hours at least.

"How are you feeling?" a familiar voice in the cell asked.

Lena jumped back, startled, and found the figure sitting on the ground across from her. "Mira?" she asked.

"Aye, I was told to bring you some food and water," she said motioning to a loaf of bread and a bowl of water on the ground near Lena. "Sorry about the bounds, by the way. I told them it wasn't necessary, but since your wounds have healed they don't want you to move around too much."

"That's alright. I've grown used to being a prisoner," Lena said, causing herself to laugh at her own misfortune. She downed nearly all of the water and turned back to face Mira. "Why are you still here though? It sounds as though your people are having some sort of feast."

"Aye, they throw this feast everytime they catch a silver hair. It's not for me, all the 'celebrating someone's death'. I figure I can spend my night tending to you, if that's alright. Ain't nobody gonna miss me out there."

"I could use the company." Lena smiled at the girl. She didn't know why, but Mira's presence relaxed her. The girl gave off a vibe of peace, as if she truly didn't want to see Lena harmed. "Thank you for your help with my wounds earlier. I don't think that older woman you were with would have cared if I suffered or not."

"Oh she doesn't," Mira stated with a giggle, "she made that very clear after we left your cell. Iahea hates outsiders, like most of the elders here. I personally am fascinated by you all."

"HA! Im not an outsider, though. I was born in a camp in the Reach. My parents helped sack Markarth."

"They wouldn't care, if you plan on tellin' anyone" Mira said, pulling a small book out of her robe. "Even if they believed you, they would probably execute you anyways. You are too important to pass up for them."

"Why do they care about my hair?" Lena asked, standing up and putting pressure on her weak leg.

"The Forsworn think that the color silver brings good fortune. We believe that because so much silver runs through these mountains, and there are so many silver buildings and ruins, that that must be a sign from the old gods. A few years ago, we started a ritual of sacrificing people with silver hair for good luck." Mira paused for a moment and sighed, "of course, the sacrifice has done nothing for us. But the Hagravens told the elders to do it, and Red Eagle worshipped the Hags, so they bent over and did it."

Lena grimaced at the thought of being sacrificed at the hands of a Hagraven. She had heard stories of the filthy creatures, and even their alliance with the native Reachmen. "Why did you call them 'Forsworn'?" she asked Mira.

Mira just laughed and flipped through her book. "That story is too long and too unpleasant," and the girl left it at that.

The two girls sat in silence for a while. Lena walked around the cell while eating her bread, the only food she had had that day. Mira read through her book using the light from the nearby fire.

After some time had passed, Lena spoke up. "Where did you learn that healing spell?"

"My father got me one of those fancy spell tome books after he came back from a raid. I read that old thing cover to cover in a day." Mira smiled as she recalled her happy memories. "Best gift I've ever gotten."

"I too know that feeling. My grandmother had a small alchemy lab built in our house in Bruma when I turned sixteen. I spent the entirety of Second Seed that year finding random ingredients and seeing what I could brew." Lena smiled at her own memories of their quite little home outside the walls of Bruma, and time well spent with her dear grandmother who raised her since she was just a little girl.

"You like alchemy?" Mira asked, a serious expression on her face.

"I love it. I can brew a potion for any ailment. I've been experimenting since I was a child."

"Me too!" Mira exclaimed. Lena felt at ease as the two girls talked about the use of different ingredients, which destruction school is most effective (frost, by Lena's standard), and how to make different poisons. Lena shared nearly everything she knew with her new friend. _If i'm going to die soon, why not share the wisdom of my young life._

As the night dragged on, the chanting from the festival stayed strong, a constant reminder to Lena of her approaching fate. The thought of her death again began to weigh heavy on her mind, an all too common theme on her adventure to Skyrim.

"Are you scared?" Mira asked her.

Lena shook her head and sighed. "No. There's no use in being scared in the face of death, Mira. It'll come regardless. I think the Divines are telling me my journey back to Skyrim was a bad idea."

"I've never had to face death, yet."

"It'll come to you someday. How old are you, Mira?"

"Fifteen years."

Lena sighed, "Hmph. I was fourteen when I first came close to death. I was training with my grandmother. Survival training. I thought I was ready for her test. We had been working so hard for so many months. I pleaded with her to give me a chance. And she did."

"What happened?" asked Mira, obviously intrigued by this silver-haired woman's life.

"One night she blindfolded me, bound my hands, and put me on her horse with her and rode south into the woods. I remember it was freezing, not as cold as Skyrim, but there was several feet of snow on the ground. Winter in Bruma can be frigid. We rode south for over two hours. She then stopped, shoved me off the horse, and left me out in the woods with only a dagger, a pair of boots, and barely enough clothes to cover me. My instructions were to return home before morning, and she rode off," she paused now to gather her thoughts. "I followed her horse's tracks. Of course, it took me an hour to realize she had doubled her tracks, and I had just walked several miles south. Much to my shame, I panicked. I tried to start a fire, but everything was wet. I got too weak to walk, and eventually disoriented. All I remembered was passing out in a pile of snow."

Mira had a horrified look on her face. "That's horrible! Your own grandmother did that to you? How did you survive?"

"Some hunters found my frozen body in the morning. They did what they could to help, but they needed someone practiced in the Restoration school. Luckily for me, my grandmother had come back around. She probably assumed I was dead until she stumbled into the hunters' camp. She was able to heal me and bring me back home." Lena had become emotional telling her story, tears mixed with rage. "Anyways, that was the first time I accepted death. The second time happened a few weeks ago, as I entered Skyrim, and the third was last night."

"What happened when you came to Skyrim?"

"A misunderstanding with the law. That, and a dragon."

Mira chuckled. "Dragons never existed! How did you really escape?"

Lena absolutely didn't feel like recalling her experience with the black dragon in Helgen, so she decided to blow off the girl's question.

They continued to talk about their families. Lena talked about her parents dying in Markarth, and her grandmother raising her. Mira talked about her mother dying when she was born, and the close bond she shared with her father before he died on a raid. They talked until the large bonfire and festival outside the cell died down, with those celebrating likely passed out asleep from too much ale.

As Mira said goodnight and was leaving the cell to retire for the night, Lena stopped her. "Mira? How much longer do I have in this cell?" she asked.

Mira seemed to think through her answer, as if deciding whether or not Lena should know such information. "Tomorrow. At sundown," she finally said.

"How will it be done?"

Mira turned to face the Breton. "Do you really want to know?"

Lena simply nodded.

"They'll slit your throat and watch you slowly bleed out. Then they'll cut all the hair off your body and soak it in a bowl of your blood. They'll throw your corpse over the waterfall."

Lena was horrified. The thought of her brutal death made her truly afraid. Mira seemed to sense how her new friend felt. She apologized, and quickly left the cell. Lena, now alone, felt a wave of nausea come across her. She crawled with her bound limbs to a corner of the cell and vomited. Tears came down her face. She seemed to cry all night, until the sun began to make its way into the sky.

Lena got no sleep the night before her death. She now knew that asking about how she would die was a bad mistake.

That day passed very quickly. An extra guard was placed outside the cell, to ensure Lena wouldn't escape. She had no chance to, however, as the stones that her cell was made of were sturdy, and her bounds were as strong as they were the night before. Outside, people carried about their daily chores, some stopping to glance at the prisoner in her last few hours. Mira visited in the middle of the day, bringing another bowl of water and loaf of bread. They tried to make small talk, as they had the night before, but as sundown grew closer, Lena found no desire to socialize and be polite.

After Mira left and she ate her meal, Lena prayed passionate prayers to each of the Divines multiple times. Her prayers were mixed with singing hymns and crying to add to the passion. She had done the same on the carriage into Helgen, when she realized the headsman's axe was awaiting them. _They helped me then, perhaps they'll help me now._

As the sun was deep in the lower half of the sky, Lena noticed a large crowd gathering outside her cell. They were chanting, cheering, yelling obscenities. "Kill the foreign whore" and "Cut the bitches hair!" were her personal favorites. _I hope my hair curses all you crazy fucks,_ she thought to herself.

Three men entered her cell. One knelt down and cut off the bindings around her ankles. Another grabbed her by her hair and pulled her onto her feet. They laughed at the pain they caused, and she could feel the redness in her own face. _DO NOT FUCKING CRY HERE._ One of the men tilted her hair back as another tied a rope around her neck, fashioning it into a collar and leash. The third man had his attention elsewhere, and soon began fondling her average sized breasts. _And now im being degraded, how wonderful_. After slight molestation by the third man, the two others led her out of the cell she had been trapped in. Her right leg was still very sore, and Lena had some trouble walking normally.

All that feeling of discomfort disappeared when she saw the size of the crowd. At least sixty men, women, and children had shown up to watch her death. They continued to yell at her as she was led throughout the camp by the man holding the rope attached to her neck. The settlement was about as big as she assumed it to be. They went up a first flight of stone stairs, and Lena could see and smell the ashes of the fire last night. This section itself had several large tents, a long table in the middle, and a forge.

Slowly, she was led up the last bit of stairs, with the crowd behind her growing quieter with each step they took. They reached the top, and Lena could finally get a good look at the waterfall she could hear so clearly the past few days. It was massive, and had a constant roar to it. An ancient stone walkway stood in the middle of it, with a more solid platform on one end, and a large drop off on the other.

Lena stood there for a moment, taking the layout in. And that's when she saw them. The Hagravens. Two of them stood on the platform on the far end, both standing next to a table. The creatures glared at her. One of them slowly began to make its way to where the Forsworn had led her. None of the Reachmen stepped near the stone walkway, other than the one holding her leash. He bowed as the witch approached, heaving with every step it took. Its face came a mere inches apart from Lena's. She couldn't tolerate the creatures stench and hideousness, and forced herself to break eye contact. The Hagraven aggressively grabbed the rope from the guard, and heaved on it as it began walking, causing Lena to fall to her knees. The witch didn't wait for her to regain her footing, and Lena was halfway dragged to the platform before she managed to stand.

Upon reaching the platform, a good distance from the horde of now silent Reachmen, she was made to stand in front of the stone table. The first Hagraven stood on her right, and the other, just as ugly, was on her left. The witch on her right made its way behind her, and in a quick motion, stripped her of all her garments, throwing them into the stream of water.

She didn't feel shame in this, however. Lena had a fixed expression, a stern look that showed she had accepted her fate. She didn't cry, nor did she panic. Her eyes were set on the waterfall, knowing that her now naked body would soon liter the river below.

Chanting began as the two witches simultaneously uttered an incomprehensible language to the sky, a prayer of some sorts. Cold wind blew through the area, causing Lena to shiver. Suddenly, one of the Hagravens grabbed her neck and forced her to bend over the table where a bowl was waiting to collect her blood. Lena remained unafraid. The creature pressed its sharp talon against her neck, the two of them now chanting stronger than before. Lena closed her eyes, and allowed herself to welcome the Dreamsleeve.

Then, she heard it. A loud roar shook the platform. _Is this death?_ She could still feel the creature standing next to her, holding her neck. She could still feel the cold wind on her body. _No, this can't be death._

Screaming began, and Lena felt herself get pushed to the ground. She opened her eyes, heard another roar, and saw the black dragon fly over her head, breathing its flames into the crowd of Forsworn that simply stood in awe. It was the same beast that attacked moments before the headsman's axe came down on her in Helgen. Lena nearly laughed at the idea of avoided death by execution again, just to be burnt to a crisp by a fire breathing dragon.

Flaming rocks began to fall from the sky, as the dragon had an easy time picking off the Reachmen who struggled to find shelter. Lena crouched under the stone table and closed her eyes. She could hear the screams of children. She heard the rallying cry of warriors attempting to kill the beast. The sound of fighting died down as the dragon continued to shout its fiery breath. _Just like my dream._

Lena crawled out from under the table, hoping to get as far away as possible. Unfortunately, she quickly found that there was nowhere she could go. If she wanted to run through the camp to get away, she would have to run right in front of the dragon, who was examining her as its next meal. The only other way out was the waterfall. She glanced back at the giant dragon that had begun to crawl its way towards her. Without a second thought, she sprinted towards the waterfall. The heat from the dragons breath was getting closer to her body. Moments before the flames touched her body, she leaped off the waterfall, knowing that the impact of the water had to of left a pool deep enough for her to survive.

Lena was in the air for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, her naked body made contact with the cold water. Discomfort and pain in her leg rushed in, but they were ignored by one simple fact; she was alive. At least for now.


	4. New Beginnings

**The Forsworn**

 **Chapter 4: New Beginnings**

 **Sorry for the late submission again! My hope initially was to publish two chapters a week, but now I am just working towards one.**

 **And again, please FOLLOW, FAVORITE, and REVIEW :)**

Lena pulled herself out of the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. She was freezing cold and soaking wet, but she was alive. Her leg felt weak, but no part of her was bleeding or felt broken

She rolled out of the pool and lay on her back, catching her breath in the frigid night. She couldn't believe the events that had just transpired; she was seconds away from being sacrificed, and then a giant black dragon attacked. She was moments faster than the dragon's flames, or else she'd be feeling a much harsher pain right now.

She crawled over to a nearby boulder and hid. Occasionally, a scream from the Forsworn village or the sound of a building on fire collapsing would pierce the night. Lena assumed the beast was still up there, and she was too afraid to make a run for it. So she sat there, using the large rock behind her to protect her from the frigid wind and the dragon. Lena clutched her naked body, and thanked the Divines that she was alive.

Lena also wondered if she should pray to the beast that somewhat saved her life two different times now. She knew that dragons had been dead for thousands of years, and as far as she knew, the only times a dragon had been sighted since their extinction were when she was about to die. _Maybe this beast was sent by the Divines to protect me,_ she thought to herself. She quickly remembered the way it looked at her as she made a run for the falls, however. It spat its fire at her, and would have surely killed the Breton if it had the chance. Lena definitely didn't think well of the dragon, but she could tell that her fate had to be intertwined with this creature in some way.

Hours passed, and Lena sat waiting. There were several dead bodies littering the pool of water and the grounds nearby, obviously victims of either the Reachmen, or their own insanity. She felt a rush of adrenaline when she went over the cliff, and knew that some of her friends in Bruma would have enjoyed the challenge.

Some of these bodies were clothed, and Lena pulled an outfit off of a deceased Nord. The dead man's clothes were saggy on Lena's shoulders, but tight around her breasts. Of course it didn't matter, and she happily covered herself with the miner's clothes.

As the sun began to rise, Lena felt herself begin to drift into sleep. She knew that she couldn't afford herself a moment of sleep; people will come to investigate the burning village soon, and she needed to warn the local Jarl. As far as she knew, Lena was the only survivor of Helgen and the Forsworn camp. If the dragon wanted to attack Markarth, it would easily destroy the city.

At that moment, Lena decided to make a run for Markarth. She knew the city was to the west, and the road couldn't be far away. The dragon had been silent for hours now, and it had likely flown away in the night. Lena rose from behind the rock, and made a run for Markarth.

Lena ran for hours through the heavy rain and thick fog, not daring to stop for fear of the dragon returning. She knew it was still out there, and didn't want to be on the road when it returned. Eventually, farms and mines came into few along the road. Still, she kept running until she saw the large stone walls of Markarth come into view.

Finally feeling safety for the first time since Falkreath, Lena collapsed from exhaustion. She fell onto her knees just outside of the stables, trying to catch her breath without fainting. Two guards had seen her run up, and now approached.

"What in Oblivion are ya doin', lass?" one of the guards, a male, asked standing over her body.

Without giving Lena a chance to catch her breath, the other guard chimed in. "Is she hurt?" she questioned.

"That's what I am trying to find out, woman."

Lena's vision was blurry, and she couldn't feel her legs. Still, through the heavy panting, she managed to get out an answer. "No…," she managed between breaths. "Forsworn attacked…then…dragon…"

The guards looked at each other, and then back to her. She was sure she heard the man snort. "You're a funny one," he said, patting his companion on her shoulder. "So Forsworn attack though, eh? That's one we can believe? Where'd this attack happen, lass?"

Lena didn't have time to respond. The other guard spoke up. "Drewen...go sound the alarm."

"What for?" The woman pointed, for her partner to see.

Lena looked up, no longer struggling to breath. The female guard's gaze was aimed at the sky. The woman didn't move, but her companion did. The man ran in the direction of a nearby watchtower, and moments later, a loud alarm bell rang out. Guards were running out of the city, as townsfolk ran towards the safety of the walls.

Lena slowly rose to her feet, barely regaining her strength and balance. She followed the guard's gaze, and saw a amazingly terrifying sight.

Barely visible through the rain and fog, a dark form could be sighted in the far distance. The beast was flying in place, simply flapping its large wings enough so that it could seemingly float. A pair of red eyes pierced the haze. They set their gaze on the frightened people of Markarth. Above all, however, Lena could feel the eyes attempting to piercing her soul.

Someone shouted out "DRAGON!" and people began running like mad. Lena herself could only craw to the nearby stables. She crouched down and stared back at the beast. She felt as though she was in a trance, with no desire to break the dragon's gaze. They stayed like that for several minutes, neither of them moving as frightened guards lined up along the walls, unsure of whether to attack or hold fast.

Eventually the dragon flew away, heading back east. It let out a blood curling roar as it vanished into the sky. Nearly all of the guards stayed outside under orders, and kept their eyes on the sky.

Lena finally mustered enough strength to stand on her weak legs. Slowly, she made her way into the city she once knew as a child.

Saying that the ancient city of stone had changed since Lena was a little girl would be an understatement. While the buildings and marketplace looked smaller than they did during her youth, the city itself seemed endless. A steady stream of water flowed through the city of stone, making its way from waterfalls near the distant keep. The city was marvelous, although she would soon be reminded of the dangers she faced there.

The townsfolk had all gathered in the marketplace, located just inside the main gate. They wondered around aimlessly, unaware of why the alarm bell had been rung. Hoping to take advantage of the influx of potential customers, many of the merchants began hollering out, attempting to lure the curious citizens to their stalls. One merchant in particular, a jeweler, met eyes with the weary Lena.

"Come here, my lady!" she called as Lena began to approach the Redguard woman. "Ah my dear, I have a necklace that would look lovely on you, or on a...special someone," she offered with a smirk.

Lena sighed as she approached the stall. The woman was easily a head taller than Lena, and rather intimidating. "Im sorry, but I'm a bit short on coin at the moment. Forsworn attack and all…"

"Oh my dear! You poor thing. Damn those Forsworn to Oblivion. Lisbet was telling me that just the other day one of her own shipments got robbed on the roads." The women shook head in disappointment. "You need to tell the Jarl, friend. It's about time he used his guards for something.

Lena found that comment funny. The citizens had no idea why all the guards were outside the walls, and she didn't want to be the one to cause panic with news of dragon attacks. Still, she knew the Jarl should know about what happened to her and the Khajiit she was with.

"Aye, perhaps I will," she agreed. Lena stood by the stall and made small talk with the merchant for a short time, all the while examining the beautiful gems and rings that she could not afford to buy. _If I'm going to live in the city for a while, I'll need a job,_ she thought to herself often.

An Imperial woman walked up next to Lena and greeted the merchant. The Imperial's name was Margaret, and she introduced herself to Lena.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lena. You must be new to Markarth, am I correct? I've never seen you around here before," Margaret said. The women seemed eccentric, a good personality to contradict Lena's quiet nature.

"You'd be correct. I just got into town from Falkreath," Lena replied.

The Redguard merchant, who Lena learned is named Kerah, spoke up. "Lena here was telling me she was robbed by the Forsworn. They took everything except the clothes on her back. She's got no coin!" Lena couldn't help but grin at Kerah's comment, but she didn't tell the two women about her being stripped.

The three women continued talking at the jewelry stall. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lena saw a man awkwardly facing them. He was clearly watching them. Lena slightly turned her body so that she had a better view. The man had a balding head, and was dressed as a miner. With all the townsfolk in the marketplace, it became hard for Lena to keep her eyes on him. People were bumping into her, asking Kerah questions, or starting conversations with the talkative Margaret. The crowd got in the way, and Lena turned to look for the strange man. Except for the few children on the street, she seemed to be the shortest person in the market, which turned into a massive disadvantage.

Suddenly, she caught sight of the man, blended into the crowd and now just a few feet from her. His eyes had a look of anger and determination, and they seemed to focus on the back of Margaret's head.

He moved fast out of the crowd of people, nearly sprinting towards Margaret. Lena barely had time to react when she saw him pull the dagger out from its sheath. The assassin was within Margaret's reach when he shouted, "FOR THE FORSWORN!" and raised his weapon.

Lena collided into the man, and grabbed the arm his dagger with in. His gaze quickly turned on Lena, and attempted to bring the dagger down on her. But she resisted, using every bit of her strength to hold onto his arm. She twisted his arm as hard as she could, eventually forcing him to drop the dagger. As soon as the weapon hit the stoney street, she kicked it well away from his reach. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to react as the assassin's fist collided with her cheek, sending her flying into Kerah's stall.

She regained her vision and awareness after hitting the stall. Kerah was crouched next to her, asking if she was alright. She ignored the Redguard. She ignored the crowd. All she saw was the attacker running back to where his weapon lay. He would never reach it, however. At least three arrows hit him in the back and sides, and the man fell limp by the hands of a few guards that had reentered the city.

The crowd seemed unaware of the true danger until now. Several citizens ran towards the dead man. Most, however, stood still, their eyes intently watching Lena as she got back to her feet.

She looked over to her right, where Margaret seemed paralyzed with fear and confusion. Her hand covered her mouth, but there was no scream. Simply shock as she realized she was barely alive, all thanks to a Breton she had met only moments earlier.

Finally, Kerah broke the silence that seemed to cover the entire city. "By the Eight...he...he nearly killed Margaret. Lena...you saved her."

Someone in the crowd spoke up. "He mentioned something about the Forsworn. Weylin was a Forsworn! The Forsworn are in the city!" This caused massive panic, as most of the gathered crowd dispersed like mad. Some ran home, others to the keep. Eventually, Lena, Margaret, Kerah, and a few beggars and guards were all that was left.

Margaret finally began moving again. She instantly turned Lena around and embraced her. They hugged for what seemed like eternity, and Lena realized that the woman really needed any sign of affection.

Finally, their embrace ended. "You have saved my life, Lena," Margaret said quietly, tears in her eyes. "I will never forget that, friend. Ever. If you need anything: food, coin, shelter...anything. You need only to ask."

Lena, still shaken up herself, thanked her new Imperial friend. Kerah and Margaret then went to the nearby inn, leaving Lena alone with the guards investigating Weylin's body. They approached her.

"Citizen, did you see what happened here?"

Lena scoffed. "Aye, I was the one who stopped him from murdering that woman," she enthusiastically pointed out.

The guard seemed taken back by her response. "Oh...well you have my thanks for that."

"The man yelled something about the Forsworn before he attacked," Lena continued, ignoring the guard's praise. "Are there really Forsworn in Markarth?"

"Don't worry about that, lass. There are no Forsworn here. The city watch has everything under control."

Before Lena could get another word in, the guards dismissed her and went back to the body. Turning around, Lena nearly ran straight into a man in the street. He was a Breton, a Native Reachman by the looks of it.

"By the gods, a woman attacked on the street," he said as he approached her. "Are you alright, girl? Did you see what happened?"

"I was right there with him. He almost killed me," Lena replied, pointing to the jewelry stand. The events of the attack had transpired so quickly, she had little time to process how close she was to death.

"I'm so sorry. I hope the gods give you more peace in the future."

Lena laughed at that remark. "Aye, me too." She prepared to take her leave, but the man grabbed her arm as she passed by.

"Oh, I think you dropped this. Some kind of note. Looks important." the man turned and began to walk away. He called back, "My name is Eltrys," as he disappeared. Before Lena could question this man, he had taken his leave. She opened up the small note and read it. All it read was " _Meet me at the Shrine of Talos"._

Before Lena could make her way to the temple, a small detachment of guards approached her. _Oh by the Eight! What now?_

"No need to fret, lass," the lead guard spoke first. Lena recognized his voice as one of the guards that she spoke to when she first arrived at the stables. "We told the Jarl your story of the Forsworn and the dragon. He wants to speak to you, personally, in the Keep."

Lena looked at the four, armed men. It was clear to her that this Jarl was attempting to use intimidation to get his way. Still, Lena realized she had no choice, and so she allowed the men to escort her through the city and to the Keep.

Once inside, Lena found Understone Keep to be lacking in renovations. Ancient stone pillars that had collapsed now littered the main path. Still, the beauty of the stone was marvelous. They made their way up a set of stairs, where a tall, slim Nord sat upon a throne.

The guards directed Lena towards the throne. She stopped short of the Jarl. "Bow to the Jarl, girl," his Dark Elf bodyguard ordered. Hesitantly, Lena bowed to the man, and then awkwardly stood waiting for him to speak first.

He sat on his throne, looking down at her. Lena could tell he was trying to read her, another intimidation tactic perhaps. Finally he spoke. "You speak to Igmund, son of Hrolfdir. Jarl of Markarth." His voice boomed throughout the stoney hall, a thick Nordic accent.

"My name is Lena."

"You're a native of the Reach, aren't you?"

"I...am, my Jarl." Lena was curious as to how the man could tell her background so easily.

"And you are new to Markarth, yes?" Lena nodded. "Which means that either you just came down from the hills, or you came here with some hidden agenda in mind."

Lena could hear the guards behind her, grabbing the hilts of their swords. She frowned. "I am not a Forsworn, if that's what your accusing. I was nearly executed by the Forsworn just last night. Indeed, I was born in the Reach. My parents were natives of Markarth. We fled when the Reachman invaded Markarth," she lied. The Jarl stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. _Shite, im a bad liar._

"Very well, Lena. I believe you, but know that my guards will be watching you at all times while you are in this city."

"Fine," Lena replied, sending a tone of displeasure and attitude throughout the hall. She stood there for a few seconds, trying to regain her composure. "I thought you had me brought here to hear about the Forsworn and dragon that I encountered?"

"Aye, girl. Tell me, where did this attack take place?"

Lena proceeded to tell the Jarl and his court the details of the attack. She made sure to leave out her true intentions of returning to the Reach, as well as the skooma fiend Khajiit. Igmund seemed to find relief in hearing that this attack took place near the edge of the Hold, and far from Markarth.

"You see, Raerak. The Forsworn are far from Markarth."

"My Jarl," Lena interrupted. "There was an attack in the marketplace. The attacker yelled something about the Forsworn…"

"I've heard the rumors, girl. And I've also heard that it is bad manners to interrupt a superior. I will say it again, so that everyone can hear. There are no Forsworn in the city!"

Lena scoffed at this ignorant Nords remark. Still she nodded her head in understanding. _Not the friendliest city I've been in_ , she thought to herself.

The Jarl proceeded to question her about the dragon attack, how she escaped the Forsworn, what they intended to do with her. Lena went into details of her near sacrifice. She described the dragon, told the court that it was the same beast that had destroyed Helgen. Igmund didn't seem too concerned with the dragon, claiming that the city's stone buildings would prevent a fire from spreading.

When she was finished retelling her story, Lena found herself fighting to hold back emotions. She had been strong in the moment, yet found that recalling her near death upset something deep inside her. The Jarl perhaps saw this in the young Breton, and dismissed her. The guards that escorted her into the keep walked her to the exit, and then went their separate ways.

When she stepped out of Understone Keep, the sun was beginning to set. The mixture of fog and water from the falls shrouded the city in beauty.

Lena thought about retiring for the night. After all, it had been arguably the longest day of the Breton's life. She was hoping Margaret would share her room at the inn. Perhaps the innkeeper would have chores she could do for coin.

Nearing the marketplace, however, Lena remembered the note that Eltrys had handed her. It was obvious important to him that they met in private. Curious as to what the man had to say, she asked a child on the street where the Shrine of Talos could be found. She was pointed in the right direction, and made her way inside the abandoned temple.

Everyone knew that Talos worship had been outlawed by the Empire after the Great War. This temple certainly showed no signs of recent activity. A single candle burned near the statue of the Nordic Emperor. As Lena approached, a shadow appeared.

"Hey," The figure's voice called out. Eltrys stepped into the light of the candle, his face coming inches from Lena's. "Look, I'm sorry to drag you into Markarth's problems, but after that attack in the market I am running out of time."

Lena stepped back, confused. "Im sorry, but i'm not doing anything yet."

"You want answers? Well so do I. So does everyone in this city. A man goes crazy in the market. Everyone knows he's a Forsworn agent. Guards do nothing." Eltrys paused and sighed, a burning intensity in his eyes. "Nothing but clean up the mess."

Lena took some time to answer, partly out of confusion, but also out of fear of getting entangled in a conspiracy. "And you want me to find out why?"

"Yes," he said, breaking eye contact with Lena for the first time. He looked around the poorly lit temple, his brown eyes resting on the statue of Talos. "This has been going on for years. And all I've been able to find is murder and blood. I need help. Please. You find out why that woman was attacked, who's behind Weylin and the Forsworn, and I'll pay you for any information you bring me."

At the mention of Septims, Lena remembered her lack of coin. Getting paid to do some investigating that likely won't go anywhere didn't sound like a bad idea to her. "And you've looked into all these murders?"

"Yes. It all started when I was a boy. My father owned one of the mines. Rare for anyone who isn't a Nord. He was killed. Guards said it was just a madman, but everyone knew the murderer was a member of the Forsworn. I've been trying to find out why ever since. Gotten nowhere so far, and then I got married. Have a child of my own on the way. I swore I was going to just give up, for my child's sake, but it's like my father's ghost is haunting me. Asking me "Why?""

Their eyes met again, and Lena felt a strong sense of pity for this man. She agreed to assist the man.

After their meeting, Lena made her way to the Silver-Blood Inn. She found Margaret sitting by the fire. The Imperial was still shaken up, but continued to praise and thank Lena. She immediately agreed to share her room with Lena and buy her dinner. Margaret offered Lena the bed, but the Breton was quick to dismiss the notion, and laid down some furs on the stoney floor.

Despite the uncomfortable floor, Lena's exhaustion quickly overcame her. She spent little time thinking about Eltrys and the quest she had just embarked on before she gleefully drifted to sleep.


	5. The Forsworn Conspiracy

**The Forsworn**

 **Chapter 5: The Forsworn Conspiracy**

The following week proved to be gracious towards Lena. Despite being the first week in Skyrim where she didn't come close to death, Lena found great success in Markarth. It appeared that the city was profitable for a person with Lena set of skills.

She found that most of the merchants in the city had odd jobs available, and were willing to pay decent coin. Lena's first stop was at the Hag's Cure, a local apothecary shop near the Keep. Margaret had suggested Lena find a job as an apprentice there, due to the Breton's skill mixing potions. When she spoke to the shop owner, an elderly Nord by the name of Bothela, Lena was disappointed to hear that the woman already had an apprentice. However, she offered Lena coin in return for any ingredients she found in her travels. Despite having no desire to leave the city walls, Lena occasionally travelled through the nearby farms and mines, and collected mountain flowers, juniper berries, and any other ingredients she came upon.

She'd also aided a group of hunters in tracking deer along the roads. She was a natural hunter in Bruma, and found that the terrain of the Reach was much more treacherous than the forest and hills of Cyrodiil. However, she had great success hunting along the safety of the roads, and was able to make a big profit through pelts.

After only seven nights in Markarth, Lena had a little over 100 septims to her name. Despite her friend Margaret's wishes, Lena moved into a room of her own. The room was much smaller than the one she shared with Margaret, but the innkeeper only charged her five septims a night. The purchase came with a bedroll, and Lena had enough coin left over for food and drink each day.

Her work with Eltrys was going fairly well. Lena thought it best to look into those involved in the attack first. She had a long talk with Margaret, where she found out that the Imperial was actually an agent working for the Empire. Margaret was very outgoing with her new friend, and told Lena that her job in Markarth was to find evidence of wrongdoing on Thonar Silver-Blood, leader of a wealthy family in the city.

She now made her way out of Weylin's room. The man lived in slums underneath the city, where Lena had snuck into his room to gather any information. He had little in terms of evidence, but she did find a note. The note simply detailed his orders to kill Margaret. No name was signed at the end, only a finely printed ' _N'_. Lena felt that this was a dead end. Regardless, she made her way out of the underground slums to meet Eltrys at the Shrine of Talos.

As she left the slums and came out into the industrial side of the city, a brute of a man approached her. The man wasn't that much taller than Lena, but he had at least sixty pounds of muscle over her, and wore leather armor that showed it. He sized Lena up and down, getting in her face and attempting to intimidate her.

"Um...can I help you?" she asked, backing up.

"You're Lena, huh?" he grunted.

"Yeah? And who are you?"

The man, a fellow native Breton by the looks of it, ignored her question, and continued to follow her backward steps. "You've been digging around where you don't belong, girl. It's time you learned a lesson."

Lena didn't say anything, but instead watched him, waiting for the mercenary to make the first move. _Is he going use fist? Maybe he'll go for his weapon?_ Lena doubted the latter thought. The man had a greatsword on his back, and Lena would easily have her dagger at his throat by the time he reached for the weapon.

Lena quickly realized she had overestimated the mercenary. He suddenly reached both his arms towards the hilt of his sword. Before he could even reach it, however, Lena had her dagger pressed to the man's throat. She pushed him back, attempting to tackle the brute. He was either too brave, or too dumb to care about the dagger nearly piercing his skin. He grabbed her arms and attempted to disarm her. This proved fruitless, however, as she simply twisted her body and maintained her hold on the dagger. He put his boot against her stomach, and gave her a massive kick to her guts, causing Lena to go falling on her back.

The mercenary quickly got on top of her, grabbing the dagger from her hand with sheer force. Before he could use it, however, Lena used all her strength to give the man a kick to his groin. He made a gurgling sound in the back of his throat, and ended up lying on his back next to Lena. She acted and got on top of him, summoning an ice spike and holding it to his face.

"Talk!" Lena shouted. "Talk, or I swear I'll send you to the gods!"

The man had a fearful look on his face, and was noticeably afraid of the cold resonating from Lena's palm. "Wait! I was sent by Nepos the Nose," he whined. "The old man hands out the orders! He told me to make sure you wouldn't get in the way again. That's all I know!"

Lena contemplated what to do next. She got off him and picked up her dagger. "Get the fuck out of my sight," she said, pointing the weapon at him. The mercenary ran off in the direction of the slums she had just come out of.

Lena was exhausted. The kick she received knocked the wind out of her, and she struggled to catch her breath. Groining, she made her way up some stone stairs to meet Eltrys.

The rest of the evening proceeded normally. Eltrys seemed surprised when he was told of Nepos the Nose' involvement. Apparently the man was a well respected citizen of the Reach. Eltrys was still pleased at the progress Lena had made. He handed her a purse of fifty septims, and encouraged her to question Nepos and Thonar Silver-Blood in the morning.

Exhausted, Lena made her way into the local inn. She went straight to her room, changing out of her hide armor that was crafted by the blacksmith. She pulled over a small tunic that she bought from the general goods store. The outfit was a brownish gold. It was a rather ugly color gown, but Lena bought it for the comfort it provided.

She made her way to the fire place in the center of the inn. A waitress took her order, cabbage stew and ale, as soon as she sat down. Margaret soon approached and took the chair next to her. "Lena," she said, smiling as her Breton friend. "I think I found the perfect gift for you in return for saving my life."

Lena rolled her eyes and returned the smile. "Margaret, you know that debt is past us. You've been a good friend to me."

"I know, my dear. But you've been a savior to me," Margaret said as she reached to her side. She presented a finely crafted wooden hunting bow. Lena had one just like in Bruma. However, this weapon was obviously brand new, and seemed to be the work of the local blacksmith, Ghorza.

Lena's jaw dropped as Margaret placed the beautiful bow in her hands. She felt every curve of the weapon, inspected every inch of the wire. It was the nicest gift any friend had ever given her. She jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around Margaret. The Imperial just giggled as Lena thanked her time and time again. Tears of joy ran down Lena's face as she released her friend, and ran back to her room to gently store the weapon. She knew she would be up all night inspecting it.

She returned to Margaret by the fire. The two of them ate their supper as the inn filled with more patrons. It was a joyous night, with nearly the entire town enjoying the warmth of the inn. Lena noticed Kerah walk in with her husband. They had scarcely talked since the attack in the market, and Lena was relieved to see that she was doing well. She noticed a few other faces. Lisbet, whom Lena bought her tunic from, was also there for her supper. Bothela's assistant, Muiri, was there by herself. The two of them made small talk about different potions, but Lena quickly realized that the girl was not as knowledgeable as she was.

Lena spent most of the night with Margaret. The Imperial always found a way to make her smile. Tonight, they were playing games, imitating the various patrons. The game seemed lame at first, but as the women began ordering more drinks, the game itself got more creative. Lena rarely drank in Bruma, but she felt herself become relaxed around Margaret. The two were the last ones awake in the inn by the time the innkeeper went to bed. Together, the two drunken women retired for the night.

Lena awoke with a pounding in the back of her head. She could feel her heart beating on her skull. Everything about her was sore and tired. _I drank far too much ale last night._ Her body was nearly falling off the small bed, and she used every ounce of her strength to reposition herself. She felt the furs rubbing against her bare chest, an unusual sensation as she rarely slept without her small clothes on.

"Ah, you're finally awake." The feminine voice startled Lena as she attempted to cover her breasts. Through blurry vision, she made out a tall figure standing in the corner of the room. Her vision cleared to reveal Margaret, who seemed to be in much better shape than the Breton.

"Shit, Margaret! You scared me," Lena said with a giggle and a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. "Why are you in my room at this hour?"

"Oh, don't mind me," the Imperial said with a smile of her own. "I was just leaving."

"But...why were you here?" Lena asked, generally confused.

That's when Lena saw her friend was in the corner of the room putting on her boots. Margaret's blouse wasn't tightened and her hair wasn't as wavy as it typically was. Margaret smirked as she fit her boot over her feet, "Damn, girl. You need to learn how to control your drinks."

"Apparently so…" Lena sat up in bed and found one of her loose fitted shirts. She tossed the shirt over her head in an attempt to hide her modesty. Still, Margaret stared intently at Lena; first at her breasts, but then she fixed her gaze onto Lena's eyes. Margaret's brown eyes had a look of pure lust in them, and her eyes alone were enough for Lena.

"Did you share my bed with me last night?" Lena asked outright, her voice nearly a whisper and her face beginning to blush.

"Aye," Margaret said with the same smirk on her face as she slipped on her other boot. "I guess we both had too much ale."

"Oh my gods," Lena whispered as she fell back onto her bed. For some reason, she felt deep regret for her actions. She had never found herself attracted to women, and felt awful for Margaret.

The Imperial came over and sat next to Lena on the bed. "Lena, dear, what's wrong?"

Lena had her face in her hands in an effort to cover to obvious redness that was no doubt there. "Oh gods. I am so sorry, Margaret."

"Lena, you did nothing wrong. It was a very pleasant evening," Lena could catch the hint of humor that was no doubt coming over Margaret. "You were very fun last night, if I do say so."

"Please stop," Lena looked up and met her eyes, "last night was a mistake, Margaret. I'm sorry but...I don't feel that way about you…or any woman for that matter." Neither woman moved for what seemed like an eternity.

"Lena dear, that's alright," Margaret finally answered, taking Lena's hands. "I don't think I really feel that way about women either." She gave Lena a reaffirming smile, and the Breton instantly began to feel better about herself. "Last night was fun, but it doesn't have to happen again, if that's alright with you."

"By the Eight, thank you, Margaret. I'm glad we had fun, but I still have much work to accomplish in Markarth, and I didn't want to get your hopes up."

Margaret's expression seemed to turn sour very suddenly. She got up from the bed and paced around the room. "Well, Lena, that's where I see a problem…"

"And...what is that problem?" Lena asked, confused at the sudden change of tone. The potentially awkward conversation had gone extremely well. Now, it was the easy part that was giving Lena complications.

"Lena...this is a dangerous city. You've only been here for hardly a week. I've been here for more than a month, and I've seen countless faces that never return. Some flee the city, while others are buried by it. I do care about you, and I can't imagine what I would feel if something like that happened to you. I know this mission is important to you, for whatever reason, but it's not worth your life." Margaret sat back down on the bed and looked her friend deep in the eyes. "I don't want you to carry on your investigations. I got a message from my superiors in Cyrodiil. I am being called back for a debriefing on the situation here. I want you to come with me."

Lena hesitated in her response, and so Margaret decided to keep pleading her case. "You're going to see Thonar Silver-Blood today?" Lena nodded. "Lena, understand that he is the most dangerous man in the most dangerous city in Skyrim. He owns the Reach, and won't think twice about killing anyone investigating his dealings. He ordered me dead all because I enquired about two of his purchases. You're investigating something much darker. Imagine what he would do to you?"

"You don't think I can handle myself?"

"I think you could get killed," Margaret replied, an obvious hint of worry in her voice.

Lena paused to take in her friend's advice, and her offer. Leaving Skyrim while she only just got there? Typically, that was a suggestion she would immediately ignore. However, her mind wandered to the various moments of near death she had experienced in such a short period of time. Perhaps returning to Cyrodiil was the smart idea. Her grandmother's cabin was still in Lena's name, and she could return to hunting the woods of Bruma.

Confronting Thonar seemed like a terrible idea regardless of Margaret's warning. Still, this investigation would never be complete until both Lena and Eltrys found out the truth. And the truth resides with Thonar Silver-Blood and Nepos the Nose.

Evidently, Lena remembered her purpose for being in Skyrim. She loved the Reach, despite all of its horrors. She still wanted to help Eltrys. It wouldn't feel right if she took the money he gave to her and didn't even complete the investigation. The city was dangerous, and she would do her best to help people like Eltrys and Kerah. She was still working on a plan to reconnect with her people. She knew they were primarily in the hills, but they weren't too inviting to the Breton during their last encounter. Perhaps she'll get recruited one way or another.

Regardless, Lena's life was the Reach, at least for now, and she couldn't return to Bruma with her tail between her legs. Lena looked up at Margaret and shook her head, "I'm sorry, Margaret. I can't do that. Not just yet."

Margaret sighed and rolled her eyes, and gave Lena a look of understanding. "I figured you would say that. I don't leave for another few days, so feel free to change your mind." She leaned down and gave Lena a small kiss on her forehead. She got up from the bed and was nearly out the door when she glanced back. "Think about your future, Lena," she called out, and made her way out of the room and into the inn.

Lena got properly dressed after Margaret left. She donned her hide armor and tied her silver hair into a ponytail with a piece of string. Margaret often did a certain braid along the sides that made Lena's hair especially beautiful. Lena hadn't mastered how to do it on her own yet, and so a simple style would do.

She grabbed her dagger and sheathed it to her side. Her new bow was next. Lena ran her fingers along the wood as she examined the beautiful weapon. She slung the bow behind her back, and made for the local blacksmith.

After purchasing about two dozen iron arrows from the blacksmith, Lena made her way across town to the residential district. There, she would question both Nepos the Nose and Thonar Silver-Blood. She decided to deal with Thonar first, as he was by far the most important. After inquiring where Thonar may be found, she made her way to the Treasury House.

The Treasury House looked very similar to every other building in Markarth. It was made of stone, with gold trims and decorations throughout the main room. Lena paid no mind to the two servants cleaning near the entryway of the building. A large cage sat in the middle of the main room. In front of that cage was a woman at a desk, whom she now approached. The woman was a fellow Breton, not to Lena's surprise. She wore a very low cut dress, nearly exposing her breasts.

"Good morning, miss. What can I do for you today?" the woman said, looking down at Lena. She had a very timid voice, as if in a state of concern.

"Yes, I am here for an audience with Thonar Silver-Blood. I was told I could seek him out here."

"Oh, I am very sorry, miss. Thonar doesn't wish to be disturbed. He gave me specific instructions to…"

Lena confidently cut the woman off. "Oh don't worry, my dear. Thonar is expecting me." She didn't wait for the clerk to answer. Lena made her way to the large gold door on the left, with the woman behind her pleading for Lena to halt. She dramatically barged in the door. A middle aged man sitting at a table quickly looked up at the silver haired woman who had just disturbed him.

"What in Oblivion are you doing here? Rhiada, I told you no visitors!" the man shouted from his chair.

"Forgive me, my lord. This woman wouldn't leave when I asked and…"

Again, Lena cut her off. She strode towards the man, the two of them locking eyes. "You're Thonar Silver-Blood, correct?" she asked.

He nodded and gave her a grin, waving his hand and dismissing Rhiada. "That's right. And you must be that bitch that's been poking around my city."

"That'd be me," Lena said with a chuckle, ignoring the man's attempted insult.

"It's about time you showed up here. I've been expecting you."

"And now im here," she said, taking a seat across from him. He was in the middle of a small book and a bowl of stew. "I assume you know why?"

"There are many reasons why you would show up at my Treasury House. Do tell, what is chief among them?"

"I want to know about the Forsworn," Lena demanded, keeping her hand on her dagger and her eyes on Thonar's. "I want to know who leads them, why they attacked that woman in the market, and what you have to do with them."

Thonar took a sip of his tankard and mixed his stew with a spoon. When he looked back up at Lena, his frown seemed to show a new expression of hostility. "The Forsworn are crazy. Think they rule the Reach. Well guess who really runs things around here? Me. I own the mines. I make the coin pass to the right hands. That answer your damn question?" Lena didn't react. This news was hardly new to her. It was clear that she would have to use other methods to get Thonar to talk. "I'm done with you, bitch," he shouted at her. "Get out!"

Lena was about to put her dagger to his throat when the two of them heard a commotion in the main hall of the Treasury Room. Yelling came first, quickly followed by screaming. Lena and Thonar both made their way out of his room. The sight they came across was completely unexpected. A man was standing over Rhiada's now still body near the front door. The man appeared to be the same one who was sweeping the hall when Lena walked in. An older woman was being chased by a much faster girl, who was also one of the servants. The older woman came close to Thonar and Lena, the former reaching out to attempt to help his wife.

It was too late, however. The servant girl grabbed the woman by the back of her hair, and used her momentum to shove a dagger through her throat. As his wife fell dead, Thonar unsheathed his sword and charged at the assassin. As the two of them fought, Lena gripped her bow, and, locking an arrow, fired at the assassin near Rhiada. The man obviously wasn't expecting to face an archer, as he stood in the middle of the room when the arrow pierced his heart.

Lena looked down just in time to see Thonar run his sword through his wife's killer. The girl shouted, "Glory to the Forsworn!" as the fire extinguished from her eyes. Thonar threw his sword down and knelt next the his deceased wife, whispering a prayer and holding her cold hands. Lena made her way to the assailant whom she killed. Sure enough, he remained lifeless when she gave him a kick. She checked his body for any signs of evidence. His body produced nothing, but it was obvious the two servants were members of the Forsworn.

She made her way over to Thonar, who had a stern expression as she approached. "By the gods…," he cried out. "Betrid...my wife. They killed her! Damn Madanach! Damn his Forsworn backside." The man had a strange expression on his face. Lena couldn't decide if he wanted to cry, disappear, or strangle her.

"Now will you talk?" she casually asked, not offering him a hint of sympathy.

"Fine. You want to know who the Forsworn really are?" she slowly nodded her head. "They're my puppets. I have their 'king' rotting in Cidhna Mine. He was supposed to keep them under control."

Lena scoffed. "Hmph. You made a deal with the Forsworn?"

Thonar simply nodded, refusing to meet Lena's eyes. "When their uprising was crushed, I had Madanach brought to me. He was a wild animal, but a useful one. I offered him a stay from execution if he used his influence to deal with any annoyances that came up. Competitors, agents, idiots. So I've let him run his little Forsworn rebellion from inside Cidhna Mine. Now he's out of control."

"You're a damn fool, Thonar Silver-Blood. Did you know that? You tried to cage a dog, and he matured into a mad dog. He's not out of control. You've lost control." She cursed and kicked a nearby chair out of frustration. This whole conflict was because of Thonar. And due to the lack of action, it was rooted far too deep into the Reach.

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Only the gods can judge me."

"And judge they shall, Thonar." Lena stepped over Thonar's wife and made her way to the exit. Before she got there, she turned back to him. "You deserved this, Thonar," she said. Despite being across the room, her voice boomed, and Thonar Silver-Blood offered no response.

Exiting the building, she took in the streets of Markarth. Nothing seemed out of ordinary, so hopefully no one heard the commotion inside the Treasury House.

Lena decided to pay a visit to Nepos the Nose before she met with Eltrys. She preferred to have more information to give him so that he would have more money to pay her.

After questioning some street orphans, Lena was pointed in the direction of her destination. Nepos' home was high above the residential section of the city. Again, nothing truly made this stone house stand out from any of the others, so Lena had to wait until a local walked by so she could be sure. Storm clouds began to roll in from the hills as she entered the home.

The heavy door slammed behind Lena as she entered the home. The home smelled of cabbage and wine, a strange concoction. Lena began to make her way down the entry hallway before she was stopped by a servant girl. Another Breton, the woman approached her. "I apologize, ma'am, but the master of this house is ill and won't be seeing…"

Lena didn't even have to interrupt. A voice from the main hallway called out in a whisper. "It's okay, my dear. Let her in."

Lena was led by the servant to where the old man sat by the fireplace. She nervously took note of the three other servants in the room, all of them staring at her intensely. The old man looked up from his book as she approached. "Ah my dear! You must be the darling Lena? Take a seat my child. You're beauty surpassess you're description." Lena felt odd getting a compliment like that from a man old enough to be her grandfather. Still, she sat next to the man by the fire. He showed the cover of the book he was reading. "Have you read this one? _Thief of Virtue?_ "

Lena shook her head. "Can't say I have. What's it about?"

"Well, it's about lust mostly. I figured a young person such as yourself would be acquainted with novels of this type," Nepos said, laughing. The old man had a rattle in his voice, a testament to his years on Nirn. "It's not really my type of book, but I'm afraid I've run my personal library dry."

"It doesn't sound like my type of book, either. I scarcely have time to enjoy reading anymore myself."

"Ahh, I can see why that'd be true, my dear. You certainly have been a busy little bee, haven't ya? You've accomplished so much in such little time." He tossed the book to his side and put his hands out to the fire. "There are always lessons to learn from books though, wouldn't you agree?"

Lena nodded her head, making sure to keep an eye on the old man, as well as the servants in the room behind them.

"Take the _Thief of Virtue_ for example. Many read that book, and their cocks would get hard." Lena scrunched her nose at that detail, while the old man laughed harshly. "They read what they want to read. I, however, just read a story about a young man who did what was necessary to ensure his own survival. He steals a woman's virtue in order to fight another day. In a way, I align that to what I've been doing for decades now."

Lena's patience was running thin. "Enough, Nepos. I know about Weylin. I know you're working for Madanach and Thonar."

"Ah, yes. You've proven to be a real bloodhound. Well, you've sniffed me out. I've been playing this game for almost 20 years. Sending the young to their deaths. All in the name of the Forsworn. And I'm tired. So tired." The old man's voice was a whisper now, as if death was coming ever so closer to him.

"Why?"

"Because my king told me to. Madanach. When the uprising fell at the hands of the Nords, they threw him in the mines. I don't know how, but he lives. I get his messages, and I hand out his orders without question."

Lena frowned, keeping a hand on her dagger. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Nepos sighed. "My dear girl, what makes you think you're getting out of here alive? You were seen coming in. The girl at the door is a Forsworn agent masquerading as a maid. You aren't the first one to have gotten this far. You won't be the last."

Lena didn't allow the man to prepare himself. She grabbed him by the back of his head and heaved his body into the fireplace. His screams echoed the hall as he tried to escape the flame. Meanwhile, the three servants all pulled out their dagger's, and surrounded Lena. The four faced each other, circling.

Lena made the first move. She grabbed a tin plate of the dinner table and launched it at one of the Forsworn agents. The flying plate struck one of the men in the head, causing him to cry out and fall back. The other man sprinted towards Lena, raising his iron dagger. She sidestepped him, causing him to collide with the stone table. As he hit the ground, Lena rushed over and put her dagger through his neck, blood squirting out immediately. She grabbed his dagger and turned to face the other two agents. The man who took the plate to the head was noticeably disoriented. The woman charged Lena, followed quickly by her injured partner. Lena crossed daggers with the woman, and had no time to brace as the man ran his dagger through her hip.

She heard bones crunching as the dagger twisted in her side. The man continued to drive her backwards until she collided with a stone wall. Fighting through the pain, Lena turned and elbowed the man in his face. He released his dagger, which was lodged deep inside Lena's hip. She pulled it out and threw it far across the room. She then pounced on the injured man, stabbing him multiple times until he fell. She got off his dead body, and faced the last agent.

The servant seemed unafraid, despite watching her two comrades die. She came at Lena, wildly swinging her blade as Lena dodged. Eventually, her blade connected with Lena's face, and she felt blood dripping down her cheek. The woman continued her barrage of attacks, Lena barely dodging them. Eventually, she found a pattern in the way the woman fought. Instead of jumping back to dodge, Lena ducked one of the swings, and stayed low as she attempted to tackle her enemy.

Unable to bring the servant down with pure strength, Lena stabbed the girl with her daggers repeatedly in the legs. The girl cried out and fell over. As the two women fell, Lena realized too late that the girl had a clear shot to stab her in the back. The dagger struck Lena's lower left side, near her rear. Now, both of her sides were burning with pain. The two women continued to stab each other as they wrestled on the ground. Lena must have stabbed the agent a dozen times before the girl finally stopped moving.

Lena rolled off her deceased opponent, panting to catch her breath. The servant girl had stabbed her in the back at least three times. A pool of blood now spread across the hard floor, and Lena couldn't tell if the blood was hers or her enemies. She cast a healing spell along her back and hips, and managed to stand. She would have to seek a proper healer later.

As she made her way to the door, Lena heard a groaning noise by the fireplace. Nepos had managed to not die when he was pushed into the fire. His legs were badly burned, and he seemed to be using all of his strength to crawl. Lena limped towards him, and pulled out her bloody dagger.

As she pressed to his throat, the old man looked up and gave what looked to be a slight grin. "Glory...to...Forsworn…," he whispered. Lena ran her dagger through his throat, and he fell still.

After leaving Nepos' house covered in blood, she made her way to the Shrine of Talos as quickly as possible. A few children seemed to notice, but thankfully no guards were around to question her.

Upon entering the Temple, Lena immediately noticed that something wasn't right. The room smelled like death, and it certainly wasn't her. As she made her way towards the shrine, her fears were finally realized. Three armed guards approached her, weapons drawn. In the background she could see a dead body near the shrine. _Damn, Eltrys._

As the guards reached her, Lena felt a lump in her throat. Her friend was dead. Something awful was about to happen. "What...what did you do to Eltrys?" she asked.

One of the guards spoke up. "Same thing we do with all of you natives who want to change things around here. We had a nice little deal going between Thonar and Madanach until you and Eltrys started snooping around. Well, you wanted to find the man responsible for those killings? You'll have plenty of time with the King in rags when you're in Cidhna mine."

"You fucking bastards! You're all corrupt!" she shouted at them in a rage.

"Wise girl," the guard said, causing the other two to laugh. "We have a nice arrangement in this city, and we're not letting you get in the way. You have a problem with that? Take it up with Madanach. I'm sure the King in rags and his Forsworn would love to meet you. Now you're coming with us. It's a life sentence in Cidhna Mine for you."

"No I...I won't let you throw me in that prison!" She attempted to flee, but didn't get to the door before she was pulled down by her hair. She hit the stone hard, causing pain in her back to shoot up. Lena rolled down the stairs, landing inches away from Eltrys' body. She could hear the guards laughing as they approached. Suddenly, a boot slammed into her rib. Then another. And another. Another guard stood on her fingers. The three of them took turns beating her until she passed out.


	6. Blood and Silver

**The Forsworn**

 **Chapter 6: Blood and Silver**

 **Warning! This chapter contains vivid scenes of torture, as well as references to rape and sexual assault. Reader discretion is advised.**

 **Apologies in advance for the short chapter. I promise the next one will be longer with more dialogue and detail.**

 **As usual, please FAVORITE, FOLLOW and REVIEW! ;)**

Lena awoke to a cold splash of water on her face. She could feel the drops squirm their way down her mostly exposed skin. Her vision was blurry when she tried to open her eyes, and all that was visible was what appeared to be a large stone cell. The room itself was dark, lit with a few torches scattered around on the walls. None of which helped in her endeavour to see better.

As more feelings began to return to her body, Lena felt an incredible strain on her arms and shoulders. She didn't need to look anywhere to realize that her arms were chained above her head. Her body was being naturally stretched, with her toes barely able to make contact with the cold stone floor. She could feel her hair stuck to her forehead and neck with a mixture of blood and sweat.

"Ah, good. She's finally awake. I told you that would work, Mills," a loud voice boomed from Lena's right side. She could tell by the voice alone that it's owner was a female Orc.

"Who gets first turn, Urzoga?"

"I get first turn. I won the bet remember?" the female Orc said. Several other voices in the room chuckled.

Every movement Lena made caused the shackles around her wrist to cut deeper into her flesh. She attempted to relieve some of the pressure of her upper body by standing on her toes, but a pain in each leg kept her from doing that for too long. She remembered the fight in Nepos' house, where she was stabbed in both legs.

It seemed like an eternity passed before anyone in the room made a move. Only one figure stood in her line of sight, and he seemed uninterested in her. She quickly realized that her hide armor had been removed, and she was now trapped in a room of mercenaries with only her small clothes on. The water that had been poured on her earlier revealed nearly every curve of her body, and Lena attempted to ignore her embarrassment.

"Remember, lads," the Orc, likely their leader, announced." Thonar said to rough her up a bit. So make her wish she was dead without killing her." _Thonar, that fucking coward,_ Lena thought to herself. She already wished she was dead.

Before Lena was able to voice her disapproval or plea, the Orc approached her with a bucket. The water this time did little when it was thrown on Lena. The woman returned with another bucket, this time soaking her rear. She was completely covered in water, with her small clothes revealing a far too much. Still, the Orc hadn't caused any pain.

The woman notioned for the men behind Lena to back away with a flick of her wrists. She herself then took a few steps back from her chained prisoner. Her green eyes met Lena's, and a grin appeared on her face. Summoning a frost spell in each hand, she blasted Lena's soaking wet body with a steady stream of ice. Lena squirmed and cried out, not able to control her emotions for even a second. The feeling was unbearable; her body was slowly being frozen. Breathing was incredibly difficult, and Lena had to make each breath short. Every movement she made while being chained caused all of her nerves to return to normal, causing her even more suffering. And as soon as she was sure her body would shut down from the cold, the Orc halted her assault. This continued for what seemed to be several hours; an endless cycle of getting soaked, nearly freezing to death, and then a moment of hope followed by despair.

Lena could scarcely breath when the Orc announced she was done. Ice covered her entire body as she attempted to catch her breath. "'Bout time. We was gettin' bored," another voice said. "Now, my turn to have some fun with this Forsworn piece of ass." Lena heard the loud slap behind her before she felt the man's hand on her rear.

She had absolutely no strength to fight or even resist as the man ripped off the top of her small clothes, revealing her smallish breasts. He grabbed and pinched at her bare nipples. Lena was too exhausted to even regester what was happening, but she did hear the voice of the Orc boom throughout the cell. "None of that, Hurgar."

The man's lustful smile quickly turned into a frown as he let go of Lena's breast in protest. "You kiddin' me, Urzoga? I just want to have a little fun with her. Im sure you understand eh?"

"We aren't raping the girl. Let the prisoners do that. Think of something else to do to her."

Hurgar cursed, and was seemingly about to walk away when he turned and slammed his fist into Lena's gut. Despite being almost completely numb from the frost, Lena certainly felt a pain deep inside her that caused her to cry out. It was clear to her that this man's form of torture was going to be purely physical, as he began to strike almost every part of her aching body. He spent a lot of time punching her gut, which eventually caused her to throw up the last meal she ate. He kicked her shins, possibly broke her ankles, and certainly cracked a few ribs.

Lena winced when he retired from his beatings. Breathing had become increasingly difficult, as her whole body made a rattling sound with every bit of oxygen she consumed. Her vision was blurry again, yet she managed to make out the shape of the man who beat her. Hurgar had a grin from ear to ear as he inspected his bruised and bloodied work.

Lena had embraced death several times in Skyrim. She also embraced it when she nearly froze to death at the hands of an orc. She welcomed the afterlife when she was savagely beaten. Still, however, death refused the soul of the Breton Lena.

She attempted to speak, mainly just to see if she physically could. "Please…" she whispered, coughing up blood in the process. "Please stop...no more…" she managed to mumble.

"Apologies, sweetheart. But me and Meki have yet to have our fun. It's been so long since we had a Native." This voice didn't belong to the Orc or Hurgar, but someone entirely different. The voice had a sense of royalty to it, and sounded as if it belonged to an elf. Sure enough, Lena felt fear run through her body as an elven figured, dressed in mage's robes, stood in front of Lena's near lifeless body.

The elf had a much more serious expression than her other two torturers. Lena braced as much as she could as the man summoned electricity in both his hands. The purple lightning shot at Lena, crawling its way from her abdomen to her hair. Like the Orc, the elf had a constant stream of magicka that he used on his victim.

The electricity caused a new kind of sensation around her body. She had dealt with frost before, had burnt herself before, but Lena had never been electrocuted. The feeling caused an endless desire for her body to shake. Her insides felt as though they were about to explode, as if excess air was in her lungs. Lena's body was in such poor shape, she was unable to scream, although the desire was there.

The elf shocked her for about thirty minutes straight, not offering her a chance to catch her breath or scream. When he finally stopped, he simply stared at her dreary body. She was unable to control her limbs now, and at random times her head would snap backwards. Lena was so exhausted that she was unable to lift her head on her own, making the electricity hurt even more. Occasionally, her voice would return to her, allowing her to scream out her frustrations for a few minutes before the spasms returned.

The final torturer didn't give Lena a chance to catch her breath. She heard mumbled parts of a conversation behind her, followed quickly by the crack of a whip next to Lena's ear.

"You've had quite an eventful day, no?" a Nordic voice said. "I'll only do twenty lashes on ya, girl. Ten on ya back, and ten on ya front. Sound good?"

The man didn't wait for Lena. His whip cracked along Lena's spine, sending volley's of pain and causing her to cry out. He counted down each crack, ignoring her pleas. The lashes were actually the least painful of the punishments she received, yet the smell of her skin burning terrified her.

After ten lashes, the man walked to Lena's front to resume. "Gods, ya really did a number on the poor girl, Hurgar," the Nord said to his companion as he took in the sight of her beaten body.

"Eh, she looked like shit when the guards brought her to us. I only added some finer details." She heard more laughing.

"Alright girl, ya ready for ten more?"

Lena could only grunt in response, for her mind was hardly focused. "Sounds good," he replied. The first lash struck her abdomen, as well as the second. A few landed on her exposed breast and her thighs. Lena could only tense as she felt the edge of the whip harshly cut its way into her skin, and grunt and pant as the leather was pulled back; her fatigue kept her from crying out as loudly as she had before.

After the tenth crack of the whip left her skin, Lena let out a small sigh of relief. Her legs had given out, causing even more strain on her upper body; she was almost certain her shoulders were dislocated. Her bare feet now splashed in a pool of blood as she struggled to regain composure.

After leaning on her chains in the middle of room for what felt like an hour, one of the prison guards came up behind her and unhooked her chains from the ceiling. Her knees slammed hard against the stone floor. Truly unable to move most of her limbs, she simply allowed herself to fall forward, laying face down on the cell floor. Tears ran down her face as she slowly became aware of the pain, as well as the total exhaustion, that she now faced. The tears blurred her vision, making it hard for her to see the four shades exit the cell, and slamming the door behind them.


End file.
